Lucid Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I have the money to own them….Or else Snape would have ended up somewhere very, very different.

Snape: Really now?

Vessa: Of course my good friend. Somewhere I enjoy ending up everyday…

Snape & Vessa: Between the thighs of a lovely witch!!!

Chapter One: If these walls could talk


"What's the sunrise like?" Numb fingers pressed along the familiar walls that eyes once knew.
"Is it like I remembered? Before he died?" There was cold taste on her tongue. Moldy smelling air that was associated with the dungeons. There was a chuckle filled with mirth and happiness that echoed all around her at once.
“One day I hope for you to see it, a sunrise without him.” This voice was warm as it curled through soft red tresses and felt along porcelain skin. The feeling of the stone walls against her fingertips faded away into something slick, hard and alive. The blindfold fell from amber eyes as her gaze turned to the scaled creature before her.
“My my, Miss Granger, how does time fly? And here I thought another dunderhead had traveled into my dwelling.” The creature sneered, a clawed hand moving to cup his snout as he turned; belly upright and the fire-heart glimmering like a ruby jewel in its neck. The dragon growled, puffing a ring of smoke around the trembling female and grinning.
“Can you tell me how to make a polyjuice potion? I seemed to have run out…”
Words failed trembling lips as she turned tail and ran. The sound and smell of heat burrowing behind her, following her through the winding hallways of the Weasley home. All of a sudden she halted, the hot breeze of air assaulting her senses as the young woman found herself back in her 15 year old body staring at her ex-husband. Molly Weasley was at the stove. Her brown tussled hair put up into a dirty bun. She seemed agitated, muttering to herself and tutting as she checked pots filled to the brim with what seemed to be limbs of small children.

“Not done…not done yet…No, no…” Ronald, none changed since their divorce, sat with his legs propped up on the kitchen table. His eyes followed the curves of her young body lustfully.
“Older I found you repulsive, I kept fucking you for the image that played in my mind every time I saw you. A young inexperienced Hermione with no one to compare me to.” He took a swig out of a glass that had formed in a fiery blaze around his hand. He smelt of liquor. For a moment he was so close she could count the stubble on his chin.
“But then you had to get fat, plump with the ripeness of age and wanted children. A fucking cow.” His eyes narrowed.
“Hermione…are you even listening?” A fierce and angry wail of pain ruptured the silence as the fucker turned his head. Standing and stalking towards his mother he deftly pushed the woman out of the way. Her muttering didn’t cease as she fell to the floor. The room lit up with the smell of burning and boiling flesh. Ronald had reached into a steaming pot and pulled forth a keening babe. Its eyes were wide with stark terror and pain.
“Then again…you weren’t good for anything but giving me more bitches to complain about…” A sick pop was heard as the youth’s head lolled lifelessly.

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The witch bolted up with a start. Panting and holding a hand to her heart. A dream….of a snarky dragon and… Hermione shook her head, curls falling around her face. She reached for her robes. Pulling them on mechanically as she’d done it so many times before. A chime sounded through the empty flat; followed by the annoyed mewl of Crookshanks. One by one, things began turning on in her home. Lights, radios, blenders… The witch groaned trying to focus and pull into herself. Slowly the lights dimmed, music stopped and kitchen utensils ceased. Her magic was going haywire again.
Sitting up in her bed she realized the curtains were drawn. Barley any light filtered through the room. She let out a laugh…soft at first then filtering into a waterfall of tears and chuckles. Why was she laughing? The amusement left just as soon as it came. Hermione Granger turned 27 today. No grand parties filled with friends and loved ones marked her calendar. Only more lonely days ahead teaching children who would no sooner forget all she said as they left her class room. The future witches of the world turning a deaf ear to her lessons. She didn’t give a damn.
Standing was a feat. Every morning she fumbled like a fish on dry land. There was no real reason anymore to try.

Clothes…donned.
Hair…brushed.
Make-up...applied.

Standing in the lavatory and looking almost past the mirror she smiled. The reflection didn’t smile back. It frowned, growling and hissing at its owner slamming her hands against the glass until it began to crack. The witch tilted her head.
It was like this every day. Her reflection would beat and slam against the glass surface. Enchanted mirrors were a fickle thing. They always showed you what you didn’t want to see.
Stopping in the living area, Hermione sat down for the first time since she awoke. Gathering her lesson plans for this week she stopped and looked at her hand as it was poised over a folder. The skin was stretched taunt, fingernails bitten to the quick and covered in ink stains from the night previous.
"You’re so fucking careless…why would I want to sleep with you when you look like something your fucking cat coughed up." His voice echoed in her head...always laughing always taunting as if it was some sort of game. A game she tended to lose all the time.
Biting the inside of her cheek she dropped the papers. They scattered to the floor as she rushed to the bathroom.

Clothes…donned.
Hair…brushed.
Make-up…applied.

She turned her face to the mirror once more. This time it didn’t scream or gnash its teeth it just looked. Tears fell slowly from wide amber eyes. Honey turning a blurry red as a figure appeared behind her. Ronald warmed his arms around her waist as she shuddered in disgust, crying in earnest.
Beauty products fell to the floor in a hurry as Granger left the bathroom. Enchanted mirrors were a fickle thing…they always showed you what you didn’t want to see.
Walking towards her meager fireplace the witch through in a handful of floo powder and whispered…
“Hogwarts.”
The flat was empty again when she stepped through. A shadow crept through the bedroom walls, hurriedly tossing things around the room. Another smaller womanly figure cowered in a corner by the door…The male shadow turned. His destruction stated for now. His hand raised and a silent scream shook the walls. The enchanted mirror shattered.